


Reading Between The Lines

by Verai



Series: RDR2 tumblr Requests [16]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, Mildly Dubious Consent, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 07:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: You’re the assistant to a bookstore owner, in a used bookstore off the beaten path in St Denis. It is a store with books stacked to the ceiling, the stuffed shelves creating the many nooks and crannies in this labyrinth of a shop. It is in one of these nooks that Arthur finds you.





	Reading Between The Lines

**Author's Note:**

> Oh anon, you gave me such a delicious prompt. I started this off with a softer Arthur, but in the end, he’s selfish when it comes to you. Thus, a softie low honor Arthur.  
> Original Request: i’d like to request something purely self-indulgent, as i work in a library. but an arthur x reader where the reader works in a library or bookstore and arthur is a patron and one day he corners her when she’s alone in the stacks...

“I’ll be gone a couple of days. You going to be alright alone?”

“I’ll be fine, sir,” you said, smiling with confidence. The shop owner always asked you this before he left on his trips to buy and sell rare books, and every time, you had no problem handling business.

The old man nodded at you. He was a kind man, with no children of his own, and his wife, having passed a year ago from consumption, had left him with only his store and his love of books to keep him company. But he wasn’t depressed; he accepted life with its ups and downs, and carried on with his hobby. You expected him to keep going on these trips until he died. It was the only thing that truly brought light to his eyes these days.

Since he had hired you last year to help him mind the shop, it had grown in popularity and was actually bringing in a profit, as opposed to barely breaking even like it was before. You hoped that you’d continue this upward trend, but mostly, you hoped that more people would learn to read so that more books would be written.

You helped the old man into the coach and turned back to the shop, just as a familiar face rounded the corner.

“Hello Mr. Morgan!” you greeted cheerfully as the man opened the door for you.

“Hey there, sunshine” he said, giving you a smile that you secretly loved. Pulling a couple of books from his satchel, he placed them on the counter in front of your till. “Would these be worth anything?”

You looked through them; unfortunately, they were common books, but they were in good condition. You told him as much.

“Oh well. Can I go browse a bit? Maybe I’ll get somethin’ next time.”

“Sure,” you said, watching him head off to the art section. You were always surprised by the books he took an interest in. Every week, sometimes twice a week, Mr. Morgan would come in with some used books to sell, and would buy a book when he had enough credit. 

You remember when he had first come into the shop; you were alone, like today, and felt terrified. He looked like the type of man to rob you, with the guns in his holsters and his gruff appearance. But you need not have feared; he had quietly asked you if he could browse your collection, and had placed a few books on the counter to see if he could resell them. When you told him that he’d get more for them in store credit than he would if she were to buy them off him, he gladly took the store credit.

For the past two months, he had grown into one of your favorite customers. Beneath that tough guy facade, you got to know a man who was charmingly self-deprecating, snarky, yet keenly observant. He could put together a sentence with more wit and beauty than most of the folks who stepped into the store.

Looking at the time, you knew that at this late hour, you’d be lucky if one patron showed up between now and closing time. Taking the pile of books at your counter, you wrote them all down in the new inventory list and went to place them on their proper shelves.

***

As you walked down the shelves, you remembered when he had first called you ‘Sunshine’. It was a gloomy day, and as the rain poured outside, you sat at the window in your yellow dress, smiling as you saw him shuffle into the store, stomping his feet and taking his coat and hat off to hang on the coat rack next to the door.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Morgan!” you had greeted him brightly.

“Howdy, miss.” He looked you up and down, taking in your dress and your smile. “Yer as bright as the sun. Maybe I should start callin’ you Sunshine.”

You laughed, bringing a warm smile to his face.

“Not sure if I’m that bright, but I’ll take it,” you responded happily.

He had walked closer to you then. “You always make my day brighter whenever I see ya.”

For a time-stopping heartbeat, you had stared at him in shock as he gave you a flirty smile and then wandered off to the art section.

***

You had one last book to put away, and it was almost time to close the store. At least you’d be able to lock up without having to stay late; you trusted Mr. Morgan to not steal from you while you busied yourself around the shelves. As you made your way towards the back of the shop, you looked down the aisle where the art books were.

He was still there, perusing a rather large book on wildlife in the Southwest. Looking up as you walked past, he blinked his eyes, as if he had been staring at one spot for too long. He probably had been.

“Is it time for me to go?”

He sounded a little sad and it broke your heart. “Almost, but you can stay until I have to lock up. I’ll let you know.”

He nodded at you, and went back to his book.

You found the section of the shop that had the romance novels, and realized that the only free space was up high, where you couldn’t reach without grabbing a stool or a chair. Sighing, you reached up, hoping that maybe you could slip the book in without having to go back. You shifted you grip to the very corner of the book, hoping the extra inch would be enough to let you squeeze the book between two others. You got on your tiptoes and stretched.

The book slipped from your grasp and bonked you on the head.

“Ow!” you yelped, holding your head as you bent over to pick up the book from the ground. Grumbling that you’d have to go all the way back to the front of the store to grab a chair, and then have to carry it all the way here and all the way back, you stood up, only to find Mr. Morgan standing before you with a quizzical look on his face.

“You alright?”

Your face heated up from embarrassment, and you nodded quickly. “I-I’m fine, just…” You tilted your head and had an idea. 

“Could you…” You trailed off and quickly looked away. It was a dumb idea, anyway.

He looked at the book in your hand and looked up at the shelf. He stepped closer to you, holding his hands out. “May I?”

You nodded and started to hand him the book. Instead, he took you by the waist and lifted you up, high enough that you could put the book in its rightful place. Once you got over the shock, you quickly put the book on the shelf, and he let you down slowly, almost as if he was prolonging the contact. Once your feet were firmly planted on the floor, his hands lingered on your waist. You looked up at him, confused and a little bit flustered when you saw how he was looking at you; there was a heat to his gaze, a longing for more than just this temporary touch.

“Mr. Morgan?”

He blinked, the look in his eyes returning to that gentle ocean blue that you found so refreshing as he let you go, his hands falling to his sides. “Sorry, I, uh, got lost in my own head for a moment,” he said quietly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

You tilted your head; you did that when you had a strong thought or idea, as if the weight of the idea pulled your head to one side. 

“What were you thinking about?” you asked, naively. You thought perhaps he had problems in his day to day life, and came here to the bookstore to recuperate, calm his mind. Perhaps he even used books to escape from whatever he had to deal with when he wasn’t here. You ignored the look from before; that couldn’t have been directed at you. Maybe he was thinking of a lost love.

But then that heat returned full force and aimed straight at you. There was no ignoring it this time as he took a step closer. “Sunshine, you can’t ask a question like that and expect me to answer.”

“I…” You swallowed and tried again. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just… curious.”

Ever so slowly, he reached for you. You didn’t move, didn’t even breathe. But once he touched you, you let out a breath, as if you had been waiting your whole life for his touch. Cradling your cheek in his big palm, you leaned into his warmth and closed your eyes, almost moaning as his calloused fingers massaged behind your ear.

“Like a sweet lil’ puppy, ain’tcha?”

You absentmindedly nodded into his hand.

You heard the sound of his boots as he stepped closer. The heat emanating from him felt like sitting in front of a warm fire, and you leaned towards him. His other hand rested on your hip, and he almost imperceptibly pulled you ever closer. Sliding his hand up your back, he trapped you in his embrace, leaning down to run his lips over yours.

“You shouldn't let yer guard down,” he whispered.

You blinked. “Wait, what—”

Too late. He kissed you, devoured you, consumed you like candy. Taking two steps forward, forcing you against the wall, he crushed you with his whole body. You pushed back at him, but it was like trying to move a mountain. 

"No one's here, pet. Just you," he kissed your cheek, "and me." He kissed your other cheek. "All alone." He ran his hand down your neck, your shoulder, to your breast, cupping it gently as he kissed your lips once more. His other hand took your wrist and held it against the wall. 

He pulled back to look at you, your lips parted, your chest heaving as you took a much needed deep breath, and your pupils dilated with desire. 

"What a good lil' puppy," he crooned as he ran his fingers through your hair. He marveled at the feel of it. "So cute and happy to see me."

"W-wait, Mr. Morgan, I-" 

He placed a finger on your lips. "Shush. Call me Arthur."

And then he kissed you again as he let go of your wrist and grabbed your hip. His other hand moved up and lovingly caressed your neck. You let out a soft whine, unable to stop yourself from responding to his touch. 

"Want more, sweet?" 

You weren't sure what to say. 

He started to unbutton your blouse. 

Reaching up to grab his hands, you found your voice. "We can't."

He stopped moving. "Why not?" 

"We barely know each other!" 

Arthur smiled. "Then let's git to know each other." He leaned in close. "In the biblical sense." Then he continued to unbutton your blouse. 

You tried pushing him back, but ended up just grabbing at his shirt as he leaned in and kissed your neck, then your collarbone. His hands moved down, revealing your skin to the light of the oil lamps around the store. Arthur became greedy with need, yanking your blouse and chemise off your shoulders, exposing your beasts to his gaze. 

"Beautiful," he muttered as he palmed your breasts and leaned down to lick a sensitive nipple. Plucking at the other one with his calloused fingers, he smiled as you whimpered with need, leaning into his touch as desire swelled in you. He kissed you again as he teased your willing body, undoing your skirt and drawers as he kept you distracted with his skillful lips. 

You were soon nude, your clothes in a pile at your feet, and you didn't even care as Arthur continued to touch you. He wrapped his hand around your throat and held you against the wall. Making sure he had your attention, he reached down and took off his belt, then unbuttoned his fly. 

"You ever been with a man, pet?" 

You nodded as you looked away. You had, but they had been temporary paramours when you were younger, fooling around when you had been barely out of school. Now that you were older, you didn't sleep around; you thought you didn't have that fire in you anymore. But then Arthur came into your life. That lust that you thought had been extinguished came back to life whenever he touched you. But you hardly knew him. Was this really okay? 

Arthur grasped your chin and forced you to look at him. "Don'tchu worry about nothin' else. Right now, I'm havin' you, and ain't nothin' gonna stop me." 

He took your lips once more as his hands wandered down your body. You felt his knee pushing your legs open, then his fingers finding you wet and eager, even if your mind hadn't caught up to your body. You wanted this, but it was going so fast, and Arthur was just so intense in his desire for you, it was overwhelming. 

"Yer almost ready for me, darlin'," he mumbled as he pulsed his fingers in and out of your wet channel, his thumb flicking your clit, shooting sparks of pleasure through you. "Get me ready for you."

You tentatively reached inside of his fly and grasped the velvet steel of his cock. Freeing his member from his pants, he groaned as you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking his sensitive skin. 

"Guide me in," he ordered as he grabbed one of your legs and lifted it, pressing it against his hip. You helped him slide inside of you, both of you letting out sounds of pleasure as he connected with you, his cock thick and hot as it stretched you, making you his. 

"You feel better than I dreamed," he gritted out as he pushed the last inch into you. "Gonna fuck you real good."

"Arthur!" you exclaimed, both turned on and surprised by his filthy words. 

He chuckled as he began to move inside of you. "You knew I weren't a learned man," he grunted. "I'm a bad man, a selfish man." 

As he told you this, he lifted you up easily and started pounding into you, forcing you to wrap your arms and legs around him for support as he took you aggressively. All you could do was cry out as the intensity of his craving for you overwhelmed your senses; his moans, his panting, his huge body shielding you from anyone that may come in and find you. All anyone would see are your legs and arms, wrapped around this big man as he thrust into you.

“Good girl,” he said softly into your ear as he sped up, barrelling towards his peak. “So close, sunshine.”

He pulled out of you and dragged you onto the ground, laying you on top of your clothes. Then he spread your legs and entered you once more, burying himself inside of you with a voracious need, almost as if he were possessed.

Then he lifted himself up and sat back, keeping himself inside of you as he continued to thrust, slowing his hips to a lazy roll. Grabbing your wrist and putting your hand at your folds, he made you touch yourself, made you feel him entering you. 

“Feel that, darlin’? I want to feel you let go around me.”

You did as he asked, touching yourself as he watched, his hands gripping your hips. You bucked your hips as your pleasure came crashing through you, your muscles clenching around him as you came, whining and moaning. 

He moaned wordlessly with lust before falling upon you, rutting into you like an animal as he completely lost control. He ignored your whimpers, his covetous thrusts filling you too hard as you thrashed under him, your body overstimulated beyond sanity, tears filling your eyes. It only seemed to turn him on more as he grabbed your wrists and pounded harder into you, until finally he pulled out at the last moment, rubbing himself up and down your wet slit as he came, spilling his spend all over your belly.

Arthur let out a shuddering breath as he let go of your wrists and lay down next to you. He dipped a finger into his spend on your skin and drew idle circles.

“That was a close one,” he said, laughing softly. “Was pretty tempted to finish inside of ya.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you for sparing me,” you mumbled, too wrecked to do anything but lay there and breathe.

He held himself up on an elbow and looked down at you. “Only for now, sunshine.” He leaned down and kissed you; this time it was gentle, soft. “Next time, we’re doin’ this in a proper bed.”

He leaned in to speak low in your ear.

“And next time, I’m takin’ you completely.”

You shivered. Whether it was in anticipation or apprehension, you weren’t sure.

**Author's Note:**

> Look up DG Wills Books in La Jolla. That was my inspiration for this bookstore. If you’re ever in the area, I highly recommend visiting. Hope this fulfilled your request, dear anon! This was a pleasure.


End file.
